The Black Grippe

Professor Van der Bergh was one of those elderly men who never grow old. His blue eye was as clear as it had been on his twentieth birthday, his sensitive mouth was as ready to smile as ever it had been in the flower of his youth. A professor of pathology, a great anatomist, and one of the foremost bacteriologists in the United States, Bevan’s doubts and apprehensions were perhaps justified, though he was relieved in mind to discover that he had merely accelerated the great man’s departure from New York and was not wholly responsible for a trip which might end in disappointment.